


shifting light

by religion



Category: Blue Lock (Manga)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/religion/pseuds/religion
Summary: “do you want to come with me to kagoshima?” chigiri asks.“i’m doing great, chigiri, how about you?” nagi answers.“fuck you,” chigiri moves to the couch, pushing nagi’s legs off and settling in. “do you want to come with me to kagoshima?”nagi looks up from his phone. he puts his legs back on chigiri’s lap. “sure.”
Relationships: Chigiri Hyoma/Nagi Seishiro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	shifting light

this is what we see:

a white-haired boy driving a car through a silent highway. someone curled up in the passenger seat, a tacky cartoon patterned blanket covering their body save for stray locks of red hair. the one driving bobs his head along to the quiet music playing from the stereo, tapping out the beat with his fingers on the steering wheel.

there’s a heap of empty food wrappers and takeout boxes in the backseat, shoved aside to make room for a similar heap of pillows and blankets. there are two duffel bags on the floor, one of them half open and the other looking like it’s about to burst. we see the white-haired boy’s eyes flit to the person in the passenger seat before he takes a hand off the wheel and blindly reaches back into the open bag. he grabs a half-empty bag of gummy bears folded close with a binder clip and places it in the center console. he expertly opens the bag and grabs a handful of gummy bears, beginning to eat them like peanuts, all while keeping his eyes on the road. it shouldn’t be impressive, but we think it is.

this is what we are told:

the boy behind the wheel is seishiro nagi, 18 and the head of hair disappearing into a spongebob blanket belongs to hyoma chigiri, 19. the two boys are on hour eight of their sixteen-hour trip to hyoma chigiri’s hometown of kagoshima. seishiro nagi was invited to come along by hyoma chigiri. seishiro nagi should be waking hyoma chigiri up because it is his turn to drive. 

seishiro nagi grabs another handful of gummy bears.

we watch as nagi continues to drive while finishing the last of the candy. chigiri stays asleep in the passenger seat. the song on the radio fades out, filling the car with silence before the next song starts. nagi wipes his hand on his jeans and puts it back on the wheel. we breathe a sigh of relief.

nagi pulls over to the side of the highway. _we know how this will go_ , we whisper to each other. nagi will wake chigiri up and they’ll switch places, chigiri behind the wheel and nagi in the passenger seat. we’ve seen this before.

we are correct, and chigiri continues driving down the highway while nagi attempts to sprawl out in the passenger seat. but we don’t feel the smug satisfaction of predicting how a story goes. instead, we process the new information we’ve been given, rearranging our perceptions of the two boys’ dynamic.

this is what we saw:

nagi looking over at chigiri’s sleeping figure. his hand hovering over chigiri’s shoulder before nudging him awake. chigiri emerging from his blanket cocoon, soft with sleep, hair rumpled, creases on his face. chigiri stumbling out of the car. chigiri stretching his arms above his head. the golden hour light illuminating chigiri’s hair, turning it orange. nagi, realizing he’s been staring, turning to open the door.

there is a taut string running across the car, connecting the two boys. we think it’s about to snap. we think the world will quietly shift under our feet soon. chigiri jokes about adjusting the seat so that nagi could fit. nagi fires back by saying he’ll push the driver’s seat closer to the wheel. the string loosens, the earth settles, the line of tension in nagi’s shoulders dissipates. _ah_ , we think, _so it’s this kind of story_.

this is what we see:

hyoma chigiri, 19, looking in with disgust as seishiro nagi, 18, dips his fries into his milkshake before eating it.

“you’re weird.” chigiri declares, stealing a fry before nagi subjects it to his cruelty.

nagi puts a protective arm around his plate. “it’s good,” he says defensively.

“it’s sacrilege. an abomination of the devil.”

nagi snorts. “calm down, dante. it’s a fry.”

“who’s dante?”

“uh, the guy who wrote inferno.”

“you’ve read inferno?” chigiri looks shocked.

“no. why would i read inferno?”

chigiri bursts into laughter. nagi ducks into his milkshake. we see the smile chigiri doesn’t. we sigh, _stupid boys_.

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, sees:

the flickering lights of the diner. the cracked vinyl of the booth seats. hyoma chigiri snorting between giggles. hyoma chigiri with one hand loosely covering his open mouth, a vain attempt to maintain social norms. hyoma chigiri with his eyes scrunched up, head thrown back, fist pounding the table. hyoma chigiri laughing his ass off over something only he finds funny. chocolate milkshake. the chewed up straw. the chip in the table. the sticker advertising a promo from three months ago. hyoma chigiri’s blinding smile at 100% exposure. a crumpled up straw wrapper. hyoma chigiri’s indignant face after nagi threw it at him. hyoma chigiri’s mischievous grin.

this is what we see:

two boys sheepishly entering a car in silence, faces conflicted on whether they should express embarrassment or laughter. seishiro nagi, 18, chooses the latter.

“stop laughing!” hyoma chigiri, 19, face as red as his hair, says. “it’s your fault!”

if anything, nagi starts laughing harder. he ducks to avoid chigiri’s swipe at him only to hit his head on the dashboard.

“fuck!” nagi curses, rubbing his forehead. it’s chigiri’s turn to laugh, now. nagi halfheartedly swats at his shoulder, cursing the laugh that got them kicked out in the first place. he curses chigiri's sense of humor being at his expense while he's at it. chigiri, still in hysterics, accidentally honks the car horn. they jump, startled by the sudden noise. nagi hits his head again on the car ceiling.

chigiri allows himself to snort at that, before nervously looking back at the diner. “let’s get out of here.”

this is what we see:

seishiro nagi, 14, trudging behind a smaller black-haired boy. nagi moves different, like he hasn’t gotten used to his longer limbs. he’s a quiet presence in the already loud school cafeteria, arms close to his side like he doesn't trust himself with them. the boy bringing nagi to a table, introducing him to the people seated. they look amused, like the boy bringing new friends to eat with them is a regular occurrence. seishiro nagi, 14, arranging his limbs into the empty seat next to hyoma chigiri, 14.

“hi,” says chigiri.

“hey,” says nagi.

this is what we see, five minutes later:

the black-haired boy, who we learn is yoichi isagi, 14, complaining loudly. nagi and chigiri teaming up to insult isagi. the first spark of friendship, ignited by a shared goal. nagi knocking over an open bottle of juice onto chigiri’s notebook. chigiri’s cold, furious gaze. nagi’s sheepish grin.

this is what we see:

the string finding its two endpoints. the earth humming in anticipation. hyoma chigiri bickering with seishiro nagi.

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, sees:

his best friend in the driver’s seat, window rolled down and hair fluttering in the wind. streetlamps moving swiftly past them. nagi’s sweater, oversized on chigiri’s smaller frame. the sleeves bunched up around chigiri’s forearms. chigiri’s forearms. chigiri’s wrists. chigiri’s hands curled over the steering wheel.

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, feels:

the cool night air on his face. the ache in his lower back. the seatbelt digging into his neck. his heart, pounding like crazy in his chest. his lungs lightening, fizzing up and bubbling over like a can of coke as chigiri starts singing along to early 2010s katy perry.

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, wants:

the top of chigiri’s head under his chin. chigiri’s arm around his shoulders. chigiri’s palm against his. his lips on chigiri’s wrists. his head on chigiri’s chest. chigiri's legs intertwined with his. chigiri’s weight on his body as he lays on the couch. chigiri’s hand on his face, rubbing circles with his thumb on his cheek. chigiri’s waist under the gentle weight of his hands. seishiro nagi wants to know what hyoma chigiri feels like. seishiro nagi wants to know what hyoma chigiri tastes like.

seishiro nagi wants hyoma chigiri.

this is what seishiro nagi, 16, thinks:

it is not a revelation. a revelation is surprising. a revelation means it was previously unknown. seishiro nagi, 16, is not surprised. seishiro nagi, 16, thinks he has always known. he welcomes the warmth in his chest, feels it settle in. you’re going to be there for a while, he tells it. i know, his body hums back.

this is what we see:

a car pulling over to the side of the highway, the sky clear and the moon shining bright. the car shutting off its headlights. hyoma chigiri, 19, excitedly running out and climbing onto the hood. seishiro nagi, 18, noticeably calmer, lying down beside him. a strong gust of wind blowing chigiri's hair into his face. chigiri pulling his hair back and lying down beside nagi.

"what constellation is that?" he asks, pointing at the sky.

nagi follows his hand. "orion," he holds chigiri's elbow and guides his arm to the right. "that one's taurus."

"your zodiac sign. where's capricorn?"

"we can't see it now. it's too early in the year."

"oh." chigiri points at a bright spot in the sky. "what's that one?"

"venus."

"and that?"

"polaris. that's ursa minor."

"how about that red blinking one?"

"that’s," nagi squints. "that's a helicopter."

"oh."

"..."

"stop laughing!"

"you laugh at me all the time. let me laugh at you!"

"that's different!"

"how?"

"it just is!" 

“...”

“damn it, nagi!”

this is what we see:

it’s dark, save for the streetlamps and the occasional headlights of cars speeding fast. the wind rushes past, rustling the grass field beside the highway. there’s a car on the side of the highway, its lights off and the engine shut. two boys lie on the hood, pointing at the sky. their voices echo in the night air.

we don’t move closer. _let this be theirs_ , we think, _let this only be theirs_.

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, thinks:

relationships are a hassle.

to adjust to another person, to know each other well, to become one unit? no, thank you.

nagi would like to stay as nagi. seishiro nagi. one person. not attached at the hip or said in conjunction with another. just nagi.

it’s not lonely that way. why would it be, with the stark lines that differentiate him from other people? isn’t it lonelier when two people are so similar they become one?

nagi won't change for another person. nagi does things for himself, for his benefit. he's selfish like that. he won't be one to adjust for someone. 

nagi is selfish. it's a fact. nagi is tall, has white hair, is selfish. he draws down the lines of seishiro nagi and stays within. _this is who i am_ , he digs in his heels. seishiro nagi is selfish. he will not do something for someone unless it benefits him. he will not change for anyone but himself. 

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, knows:

he’s more afraid of change than he likes to admit. he wants to stay as seishiro nagi. he doesn’t know what will happen if he doesn’t. seishiro nagi is afraid of losing himself. he doesn't know what to do if the lines get blurred, if he steps out of the borders he built.

he will throw seishiro nagi away for hyoma chigiri. he will erase the lines completely. he will let himself break his own rules for a boy with gentle hands and a bright smile and twisted humor. that’s the scariest part.

this is what we see:

a bedroom. seishiro nagi, 15, lying stomach-down, feet in the air. hyoma chigiri, 15, curled up by the window. the sky is gray and cloudy. a black cat jumps into chigiri’s lap. the sound of nagi’s game is drowned out by the rumble of thunder.

“nagi?” nagi hums in acknowledgment. “can i ask you something?”

nagi puts down his phone. “you just did.” he looks up at chigiri. chigiri starts petting the cat. “what’s up?”

“say you got a really good opportunity,” he meets nagi’s eyes. “say, a full scholarship to the best university. but you had to move far away. if someone important to you asked you to stay, would you?”

nagi sits up. “is this about your sister?”

chigiri pauses. the cat yowls in complaint. “no, not really.” a flash of lightning illuminates his face. “it gave me the idea, but it’s not about her.”

there is a string connecting the two boys. only one of them can see it’s about to snap. the other holds it in his hand, unknowingly having the power to pull.

nagi tilts his head. “they’re important to me,” he says, and a boulder presses down on chigiri’s chest. “so i’ll hear the reason why they asked.” he looks beyond chigiri, out the window, at the clouds bright with lightning. “but i don’t think i’ll give up something like that.”

the boulder lifts. the string falls from nagi’s hand. chigiri looks at the sky, strangely satisfied. “good.”

this is what we see:

a house at midnight. a darkened hallway. a locked bathroom filled with light. hyoma chigiri, 15.

this is what we see:

the fading memory of a bad dream. trembling hands. dried tears. hyoma chigiri, 15, sitting on the bathroom floor.

this is what we see:

a boy realizing he’s in love with his best friend.

this is what hyoma chigiri, 15, believes:

seishiro nagi is talented. seishiro nagi is unstoppable. seishiro nagi will one day hold the world in the palm of his hand.

seishiro nagi will not be held down.

this is what hyoma chigiri, 15, discovered:

he wants nagi’s name to only pass through his lips. he wants nagi’s body to only be seen by his eyes. he wants nagi for himself, and _only_ himself.

this is what hyoma chigiri, 15, believes:

seishiro nagi will take the world by storm. the world does not deserve him.

this is what hyoma chigiri, 15, believes:

he wants seishiro nagi to be his. he does not deserve him.

this is what we see:

a boy realizing he’s in love with his best friend. a boy realizing he’s in love with a force of nature.

this is what we see:

a school gym packed with sweaty dancing teenagers. flashing lights. seishiro nagi, 16, in a suit with too-short sleeves.

the dj plays a slow song. someone grabs his arm. he jumps.

"there you are," says chigiri, pulling him towards the dance floor. "i've been looking for you."

"why?"

"you look like a loser. you need to dance!"

nagi rolls his eyes. "you're lucky they're playing high school musical." he removes his arm from chigiri's grip, placing it on his shoulder. his other hand moves to chigiri's waist. chigiri does the same. they hold each other at arm’s length.

"i don't think we're doing this right," nagi deadpans. 

chigiri laughs. the lights flash blue. the shadows on chigiri's face shift. nagi doesn't blink. he wants to remember this: the person in his hands, the smile on his face, the sweat on his temple. _oh_ , nagi thinks, _okay_.

"does it matter?"

this is what we see:

hyoma chigiri, 13, wordlessly handing his homework over to a panicking yoichi isagi, 13.

this is what we see:

hyoma chigiri, 15, skipping class to visit a sick seishiro nagi, 14.

this is what we see:

hyoma chigiri, 17, climbing out of his bedroom window and braving the midnight winter cold to answer the panicked calls of meguru bachira, 18.

this is what we see:

hyoma chigiri, 19, college sophomore on break. he could have taken a train back home. he could have booked a flight. he enters seishiro nagi’s apartment and invites him to a road trip.

this is what we see:

the sun high in the sky. seishiro nagi, 18, still in his pajamas, sprawled out on the couch. hyoma chigiri barging in through the front door.

“do you want to come with me to kagoshima?” he asks.

“i’m doing great, chigiri, how about you?” nagi answers.

“fuck you,” chigiri moves to the couch, pushing nagi’s legs off and settling in. “do you want to come with me to kagoshima?”

nagi looks up from his phone. he puts his legs back on chigiri’s lap. “sure.”

chigiri nods, like he expected that answer. “good. we’re using your car.”

“why?”

“because i want to.”

nagi squints at him. “okay.” he goes back to his phone.

“what are you doing?” chigiri leans over.

nagi moves his phone away. “reading.”

chigiri pinches nagi’s thigh. “read it to me.”

nagi looks up at the ceiling. “ _ugh_ ,” he groans. he looks back at chigiri’s exaggerated puppy dog eyes. “fine.”

this is what we see:

the sun high in the sky. a cluttered apartment. seishiro nagi in his pajamas, sprawled out on the couch, his legs on hyoma chigiri’s lap.

“ _anyone can paint a mask. it’s boring. and everyone secretly wants to collaborate with the enemy, to construct a truer version of the self._ ”

birds chirping on the tree outside the window. nagi’s focused expression. chigiri, eyes closed, letting nagi’s voice wash over him.

“ _how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?_ ”

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, sees:

the moon, bright and full. the stars. the side of chigiri’s face. the flutter of his lashes. the slope of his nose. the twitch of his lips. the strands of hair blown into his forehead by the wind. his hand, reaching out, gently brushing it into place.

this is what seishiro nagi, 18, thinks:

is this something he’ll regret? a mistake? a decision?

it's a decision. an adjustment. he allows the lines to shift and expand. _in a way_ , he thinks, _this is selfish._

 _no,_ we disagree, _this is anything but selfish, seishiro nagi, but it's okay. you're still you._

seishiro nagi does not hear us. he does not tear down walls. he opens the door.

this is what we see:

hyoma chigiri, 19, driving a car through a silent highway. seishiro nagi, 18, sprawled out in the passenger seat. there is a string connecting the two boys. nagi knows it’s about to snap. he holds the end of the string in his hands.

he pulls.

“remember when you asked me if i would give something up if you asked me to?”

the string goes taut.

“hmm, yeah. what about it?”

“why did you ask me that before?” nagi thinks he knows. he wants to hear it anyway.

chigiri pauses. “i just wanted to know how you would answer.”

“and if my answer changed?” nagi smiles, even though chigiri can’t see it. “would it be uncharacteristic?”

“i won’t be surprised. that was what, four years ago?” chigiri answers. “so you’ve changed. doesn’t mean you’re not you anymore.”

nagi stifles a laugh. chigiri always knew what to say. “and what if my answer changes only if it’s you?”

the string snaps.

chigiri feels his cheeks strain from smiling. “good.”

nagi raises an eyebrow. his ears burn red. “good?”

“good.” chigiri nods firmly. “better. best.”

nagi grins back. “good.”

this is what we see:

a selfless boy becoming selfish. a selfish boy becoming selfless.

it’s that kind of story.

**Author's Note:**

> the title and the poem nagi reads are both from richard siken's portrait of fryderyk in shifting light


End file.
